


skeleton key

by 015255



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 04:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/015255/pseuds/015255
Summary: Charles thinks he looks good in red. Daniel agrees.





	skeleton key

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for: the colour red, daniel ricciardo, charles' brainworms, and indulgence

Mirrors hold a dangerous allure for someone like Charles - he's Narcissus entranced by the tenebrous curve of his eyeliner, the merlot crook of his lips, lace and frills skirting bare skin. Concocting this little farce is intoxicating, but not just by virtue of its novelty - he gets drunk on the high of escalating his coquettish routine, painted lips parted, expression contorted in faux-vulnerability, and then the satisfaction of seeing people get off on his fabrications, none the wiser.

"You alright in there?" Daniel calls, and Charles pulls himself away from his reflection. He flattens his skirt, adjusts the straps of his top - a scrappy number in a sangria hue that leaves his midriff bare - and emerges from the bathroom. "Was worried you'd - "

He relishes in the twice-over Daniel gives him, joking tone cut off by the surprise of having his colleague appear in what he probably thinks is Victoria's Secret - first, a little disbelieving, and then with a definitive level of characteristic Ricciardo cynicism mixed with what is unmistakeably  _ lust _ . "Looking good, Lois Lane," he says after a measured silence, a comment that strikes Charles as a little ridiculous.

Charles mellows his voice, twists it into a coy facsimile of itself. "Do you like it?" he asks, synthetic diffidence threaded into his tone like the ruffles of the skirt brushing up against his ass.

"Of course," he assures Charles, and offers his hand as if Charles is  _ actually _ as delicately feminine as he's projecting himself to be. Flashing his nails, painted the same deep red tone as the rest of his outfit, he allows himself to be pulled towards the bed. 

The thing about this game he plays and the men he plays it with is that they actually  _ believe _ in it, is the thing he's found - or they want to believe in it, amp up their own wavering masculinity by making him whimper against the pillow, lace scratching against his thighs and chest as they fuck into him.

Daniel is a little different, he notices. Hesitant. A little cynical. He seems to enjoy it, but that's all - he's less enamoured and more content, gentle. It's probably because he's a decent person, but Charles takes pride in knowing nothing of that other than the meticulous carapace of pouts and tears and smiles he's built himself, because he's better than that. He knows how to have his fun.

"It suits you," Daniel adds, as Charles settles himself in his lap. "You're uh, very good at the eyeliner thing," he says, resting his hands at Charles' side. "Been practising?"

For a moment, Charles thinks he's been caught out, but Daniel's expression is - if he didn't know any better he'd say it's  _ concerned _ , but he chooses to read it as simple curiosity.

"I'm just a natural," Charles winks, and leans in to kiss him, languid and open-mouthed in a way he knows will both distract Daniel from asking any more stupid questions and also leave smudges of cheap lipstick around his mouth.

He indulges the warm pressure of Daniel resting his hands on his ass, smoothing over the flare of his skirt to trace his thumb under the line of his panties, and lets out a breathless gasp into Daniel's mouth to egg him on. " _ Daniel _ ," he breathes, pushing his chest forward so Daniel can feel the silky ruffles of his top against his bare chest. "I want-"

Daniel responds by pushing Charles down, flipping their positions so he has him pinned by the shoulders. "Let me show you what  _ I _ want," Daniel says, and his hands carve a fervid trail down Charles' body, making a brief detour to flick the crop-top up and reveal his chest, framed by sinews of red lace. With his knees propped up, the skirt unfurls itself on his abdomen, baring the bulge of his cock beneath the taut fabric of his panties.

"This stuff looks pricey," Daniel takes pause, running his thumb down where the lace is tickling Charles' thigh, just skirting past his cock. "Is this," he slides his fingers below the waistband, examining the texture between his fingers, almost wondrous, "a regular expense?"

"Something special," Charles exhales, half a truth tripping off his tongue as Daniel pulls the panties down his legs to take them off, brushing slow and intoxicating against the thin cotton of his thigh-highs.

"Hmm," is all Daniel says, before leaning in between Charles' legs. The texture of Daniel's stubble against Charles' thigh is enough to make him quiver, sandpaper on silk, and he reaches a hand out despite himself, tangling his fingers loose in Daniel's curls.

" _ Please, _ " he breathes, and Daniel's response is to finally,  _ finally _ press the tip of his tongue to Charles' hole, pressing it flat as he licks a line up his perineum.

"Sweet," Daniel draws back, his hands warm on Charles' thighs, and Charles stares back at him hazily. "Stay quiet," he instructs, and he pushes the frills of his top up to look at the arabesque patterns ill-fitted across his chest. "Doesn't it itch?"

"No," Charles lies, stifling a whimper by stuffing the fabric of his shirt between his teeth as Daniel goes back to working his tongue around his hole, pressing his thumbs into Charles' thigh. He lets out a slow hiss through the fabric as he feels the warm, wet pressure of Daniel's tongue ease into him, slow and provocative. 

The feeling of his arousal burning him to ashes from within is maddening, cigarette embers clothed in lace, and he begins to touch himself, smoothing the precome leaking from his tip down his cock, punctuated by the rhythm of Daniel's tongue pushing in and out of him.

Charles almost lets out a whine when Daniel pulls back, wiping his mouth. "You look so good like this," he says, and Charles can imagine it himself - cheeks flushed, shirt taut between his teeth, skirt bunched up around his leaking cock. The praise goes straight to his dick, and he  _ does _ let out a whine this time as Daniel presses one finger into him, leaning in to use his tongue again.

Charles lets go of the shirt in his mouth. "Daniel, I'm going to-"

"I want you to come all over your pretty outfit for me, Charles," Daniel interrupts, and pushes a second finger into him, pulling himself up for a kiss, dirty and breathless.

He pushes himself down onto Daniel's fingers as he comes, white ribbons to match red lace, choking on his own moans. His breathing is still heavy when Daniel pulls his fingers out, reaching up to Charles' face to smooth his thumb over the cherry-stain smudges on his lips.

The bed bounces as Daniel flops himself down next to Charles, pushing his shoulders back to rest against the pillows. "Sorry about your clothes," Daniel says, propped up on one arm and gesturing towards the mess of red adorning Charles' body with the other.

"It's alright," Charles says, even though it's not really Daniel's fault, staring at the ceiling and pointedly  _ not _ at him. "I will wash it later." He takes the towel Daniel reaches to offer him, wordlessly cleaning up his own mess.

"Are you alright?" Daniel asks, quiet in a way Charles abhors, but he softens his gaze and pitches his voice, honey-sweet and satin-smooth.

"Of course," he says, and he's sure it's not a lie as long as he's like this, dolled up and in control. He moves his hands towards Daniel, shifting himself to seduce, but Daniel stops him, holds his wrists, pushes him to lie back down.

"It was good. You're good," Daniel assures him, albeit a little misguided, and, well, Charles doesn't need Daniel to say it for him to know that, but it's always nice to hear.

"I'm sure," Charles mumbles, trying to muster anything other than peaceful exhaustion and failing. Rather than bothering to try untangle himself from his ensemble, he rolls over and lulls himself to sleep, still clad in the uncomfortable tangle of wine-coloured lace.

**Author's Note:**

> deep confession: this fandom is the first i've ever written porn for so i hope you had a fun read c:
> 
> logistically speaking i KNOW no-one's gonna read my charles leclerc crossdressing rimming pwp but like if you did for some reason... congrats!


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